Convivencia
by gryffindormischief
Summary: James never does things by halves.


A/N: Combined "Can I open my eyes yet?" with a prompt asking for a fluffy morning after jily fic. It's short, hopefully sweet, and totally pointless fluff. I hope you all like :)

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Lily stretches across the mussed sheets, cozy and content and completely – _not alone_. Her questing fingers brush against warm, smooth skin with just a touch of bristle. A flush rises on her cheeks as she remembers yesterday, last night, and James' calloused hand grasps hers, his slightly chapped lips brushing her knuckles.

"Alright, Evans?" he drawls, low and gravely in the early morning light.

Despite her flush, Lily twists and pulls his hand so his wiry arm is draped across her bare middle, shivers running up her spine. "I think you'll find Potter would be more accurate, yeah?"

A grin spreads across his face, bright and altogether heady as he blinks sleep bleary eyes. "I s'pose it would."

Stretching her tight back, setting her spine popping, and although it's not her chief intent, Lily isn't unaware of the way certain _assets_ brush against James' chest. His hands tickle up her back – those _delicious hands_ – and Lily can't help the sigh that escapes her lips. " _James_."

He's nuzzling at her jawline, nipping playfully at first, before his ministrations become more lingering; leading somewhere that Lily's not at _all_ opposed to.

Until a grumble sounds from her belly, and James laughs against her neck. "That's a new reaction to my prowess."

Lily chuckles and tugs his face upward, "You _are_ a fine specimen, but we both know it's time to satisfy _another_ kind of hunger, eh?"

He blinks at her, then presses a short, chaste kiss to her lips and rolls from the bed, pulling the sheets tight as they drag along with his body. When he stands, bare as the day he was born, Lily can't help but stare, gaze dripping over his lithe form. Ever aware of one Lily Potter née Evans, James puts on a pose, flexing his muscles and clenching a bit as he turns his back. "See something you like? No shame in appreciating fine art."

Tossing his rumpled pillow at his head with stunning accuracy, Lily flops back with a sigh and blinks her wide green eyes. "I don't know about that – but I know what I'd _like_ to see."

James tugs on his pants and sits on the bed with a creaking of springs, tickling her middle. "Something for that empty belly, yeah?"

With a pat to her blanket covered feet, James trots from the room, slipping his glasses over the crooked bridge of his nose. And if Lily ogles his bum as he goes, she's entitled, considering.

There's lots of crashes and swearing and clattering dishes, pots, and pans for the next half hour or so and Lily calls out periodically to make sure she's not going to lose her new husband to an errant, sizzling pat of butter and James brushes her off, before breaking into dejected muttering again.

Laughter bubbles in her chest and Lily's so content, so glad in this little bubble of happiness they've carved out for just a few days that she forgets there's ever a reason to _be_ unhappy. And before she can wander down that path – the path of less than honeymoon-like thoughts that have their time, just not quite yet – James' voice sounds from behind the half closed door. He knocks at the door a few times, presumably with a knee or foot given the odd thudding that sounds as the door nudges open slightly. "Eyes shut, Lily."

Huffing, she complies as a weight settles clumsily across her lap, dishes clattering a bit as James lets out a breath she'd almost say was nervous.

Gently, she lets her hand slip up the side of what's presumably a bed tray, and brush along his fingers as she whispers, "Can I open my eyes yet?"

After squeezing her hand back, James drops something soft in her free one, "Yes, just as soon as you put this on, I'm patient, but I'm not made of steel, yeah?"

"I don't know about that, love," Lily says, smirking as she pulls the smooth cotton over her head, all at once surrounded by the woodsy, clean scent of _James_.

"Alright," James murmurs, quiet, "Open up."

Rounding the bed, James curls up next to Lily and swipes a slice of toast, biting into it with a crunch. "I just whipped up whatever seemed good for breakfast."

"Looks like you 'whipped up' the whole larder," Lily teases, scooping a bite of eggs onto her fork and swallowing it with an appreciative moan.

"Should I be offended?" James asks, pressing a kiss to her temple as he grabs a sausage link with his fingers, "You seem to like my cooking more than my – "

Grabbing his wrist, Lily pulls his hand to her mouth and steals the last bite. "I like _all_ of you just fine."


End file.
